Dark Woods
by TigerButterflied
Summary: Sandles. In Oregon on a case, Greg and Sara get snowed in, and their relationship is forever changed. Longer than your average oneshot, 'bout as spicy as a romance novel.


Dark Woods Disclaimers: Not mine. Borrowed only.

This was posted a few days ago. I looked it over not long after putting it up, realized I wasn't comfortable with some aspects of it, so I removed, revised, and reposted. This is on the spicy side, about as graphic as your average Harlequin romance.

This is set during forth season, shortly after the end of the Hank affair. To my knowledge there is no actual Dark Woods, Oregon.

I. Travel Time

"Yes, folks, it's eight PM in Las Vegas, Nevada. It's thirty-one degrees...crackle ... fifty percent chance of snow... cold front sweeping our way from the north... ice and snow ...crackle..."

"I think that station's history, Sara. We're four hours out of Vegas by now."

I snorted and turned the channel changer. "All static all the time," I muttered after a few slow sweeps and clicked the button to the 'off' position.

"It's likely to stay that way," Greg said mildly. "We'll be out of Nevada in another four hours, then we'll wind our way through the Oregon wilderness. According to Grissom, this place is a hundred and fifty miles into a national forest. The town where we're going is the only piece of civilization for close to a hundred miles in any direction."

I sighed. "I love nature, but going this far out with a storm system coming in is a little intimidating."

Greg grinned. "Don't be intimidated, Sara. I'm here, aren't I?"

I looked him over with a smile but didn't reply. He wasn't exactly a lumberjack. "You're a city boy from California, Greg," I said mildly.

"I will have you know that I am an Eagle Scout." His voice held more than a little pride. "I have emergency gear in my second duffle bag, for just in case. Don't worry, Sara. We'll be fine. Did I ever tell you about that time my Dad and I went camping for a week in northern Washington?..."

"What time is it?" I asked some time later. His wild tales been more entertaining than I'd expected, and the time had slipped by quickly. We were already well into deep, dark Oregon, many miles from street lights and civilization. Joy.

"Two-twenty. Should be there in five hours or so."

I sighed. "I guess there's no point in trying the radio again."

"Probably not. There weren't any stations ten minutes ago, or twenty, or thirty. I really think you have some kind of weird radio-station OCD going on here."

"I just wish we had a recent weather report."

"No problem. Your wish is my command." He pulled out his cellphone with a flourish and opened it. "Shit."

"No service?"

He smiled tightly. "Nope. Sorry."

"Okay, now tell me again why Grissom decided to send us to another state?"

Greg smirked. "Because, Sara, you are completely, utterly maxed out on overtime and consequently will not be allowed into the lab for the next five days. I am the only tech to bother to learn how to use our brand-new portable lab, and I'm looking forward to being the first kid in the lab to take the new toy out into the field. Think of it this way - would you rather be heading to an exciting new case or vegetating in your living room?"

I didn't reply.

"I trust I've made my point."

"Six forty-nine," he offered many, many miles later. "We've been on National Forest land for a while. How much further do we have to go?"

"According to mapquest, we're twenty-one miles from Dark Woods."

He sighed. "Good. I've had to pee for the last twenty minutes."

I grinned. "You should've said something. I would've pulled over, you know."

He chuckled. "I didn't want him to get frostbitten. Thank you, though."

A half-hour later, we passed a lopsided sign proclaiming, "Dark Woods Oregon welcomes YOU! Population 16." We were there, and it wasn't even seven-thirty yet.

II. Destination Dark Woods

Downtown Dark Woods consisted of six buildings - a small country store, a gas station, a diner, a crumbling building whose sign was too rusted to determine what it had been, the tiniest church I'd ever seen, and our destination, the Dark Woods Police Station / Post Office. "Wow," I said in feigned amazement. "When you get arrested you can pick up your mail as you're being booked. Cool!"

Sara tried to suppress a grin. "The jail probably doesn't have three cells."

"Probably not. It's like Mayberry, but with more trees."

A tiny woman in a sheriff's uniform met us at the door. She looked from Greg to me, taking in the LVPD ID cards on our vests. "You're from the Las Vegas Crime Lab," she said with obvious relief. "I'm Sheriff Monica Dixon. Come in, let me get my things and we'll head out to the crime scene. You can ride with me. It's a little off the beaten track. Wouldn't want you to get lost, not with the monster storm that's headed our way."

"When is it expected to hit?"

"Between suppertime and midnight. Don't worry. The crime scene is three miles away, and I've taken the liberty of getting you two a cabin at the Dark Woods Resort down the road. You're booked for the duration. It was their last one, so I'm glad I called when I did."

"Yeah, so am I." Sara elbowed me in the arm. "I'll process outside first, then move indoors. I'll save all the biologicals for you."

"Ah, Sara, you do know how to make a guy feel special." I lowered the tailgate of Sheriff Dixon's truck, then glanced at her. "Mind if I set up here? I can process DNA while you two work on the crime scene."

"Not at all. My truck is your truck."

Outside yielded nothing but a single footprint and a tiretrack. Inside was a whole different story. The body had been removed and sent to our lab, but copious blood splatter remained. Processing the scene was slow and tedious. Hours later we were still at it. "I took the liberty of setting up an area at the station for you two to use later. It's small, but hopefully it will be adequate." She glanced over at Sara. "I saw you got a shoe print and a tire print. We have our chief suspect's shoes and truck for camparison."

"Outstanding. We'll need to completely process the truck."

She nodded. "After you finish here you can start on it. Tell me what I can do, and I'll assist you however I can."

"I wish they'd left the body."

"I wish that had been a possibility. Because of travel time and the upcoming storm we had to go on and get it out to Vegas."

Sara glanced over at the void in the blood. "Did you take photos?"

"Oh, yes. Lots and lots of photos, which I e-mailed to Gil. Suspect's bloody clothing and a hunting knife found near the body were packaged and sent along as well."

"This part of the blood splatter looks like arterial spray, " mused Sara as she took a sample. "What's on that far wall over there looks like castoff, maybe from a beating."

The sheriff nodded. "She was beaten to a pulp before he slit her throat. " She looked away and sighed. "I'm sure her husband did it. He's been beating her senseless for years. When she left him he must have decided to finish her off."

Sara's expression grew angry. "Bastard," she muttered under her breath.

"That's an understatement. The victim's name is -was- Lily Marsh, and we were friends from early childhood. Her husband Robert is state police, and he has close friends in the Oregon Crime Lab. That's why Gil sent you. You're here for Lily, and I thank you for that." Sheriff Dixon tipped her hat and stepped out the front door.

"If I might break in for a moment, the blood on the doorknob was a mixture of two donors - one male, one female. Blood on the walls was all from the same female. That blood was consistent with Lily's DNA taken from her toothbrush. When we get back to the station I'll hook into CODIS. If the suspect is a policeman he'll be in there."

"While you do that I'll process the car." Sara smirked at me. "You ARE fast, Sanders."

"Not at everything," I said softly.

"I'll have to take your word for that." She squinted and looked me over critically. "You look like I feel."

"Awww. You're quite lovely yourself. Are you close to finishing up?"

She sighed. "Yes, I am. Also close to starvation. It's three, and I haven't eaten since we stopped for early supper in Vegas last night."

"About twenty-two hours ago."

"Well, then let's tell the sheriff we're ready to roll."

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"Please, both of you, call me Monica." 

"I like this place." I looked around the diner appreciatively. "Neat atmosphere, and you don't find many small places that are vegetarian-friendly."

"The owner's son gave up meat while he was still in high school. I should know. He's my nephew. My sister owns the place."

"Give her my compliments." Greg took another bite from of his eggplant parmesan and grinned. "This is excellent."

"So after we get finished here we'll go back to the station, process the car..." I looked over at him, then continued. "Shouldn't take long. You'll get on your notebook and deal with CODIS and send your results to the lab. Once I'm done with the car I'll scan in my prints for Mandy to run through AFIS. I guess we'll need to call Grissom, find out what the autopsy and the knife gave them."

"Already done." Monica looked at me as she spoke. "DNA on the knife blade was Lily's, but what was on the handle was mostly Robert's. His clothes were saturated with Lily's blood as well. Gil said the pattern on his shirt was definitely arterial spray." She sighed and clenched her hands into fists. "He did it, alright. I'm just afraid he'll pull the famous 'SHE was abusing ME' defense. Every time she ended up in the hospital, he'd claim they'd been 'fighting.' Lily was my size, and Robert is six-four. She'd have broken bones and teeth, even internal injuries, and he never even had a bruise. How is that a fight?"

"But nobody believed him, right? " Greg's voice was troubled. "Why is he still with the state police?"

"Because Robert has friends who believe that a man should be allowed to do with his wife as he pleases. They always talked Lily into dropping charges, then Robert would talk her into taking him back."

Greg shook his head. "That's just wrong," Greg said quietly. "That's just fucked up."

I put my hand on his arm. "Some men are Neanderthals, Greg," I said gently.

"And unfortunately a lot of them are in law enforcement." Monica nodded as she spoke. "It's a shame, because they do a lot of damage."

"Back in a minute." Greg hopped up and headed for the men's room.

"So how do you know Grissom?" I kept my voice casual.

Monica sighed and smiled. "We met at a forensics convention a few years back. Out here technology can slip right past you, so I go to those things every few years just to stay up-to-date. At any rate, we became friends, and he came out to see me a month later. I returned the visit a few months after, he came to see me again... you get the picture. We became more than friends. We talk on the phone a few times a week, visit back and forth eight, maybe ten times a year. It's not the love of a lifetime, but we both get what we need without having to give more than we want to. It's sort of low intensity, but we've been seeing each other for over three years now."

"Whatever works." I took a deep breath and looked at Greg, who had his nose plastered to the diner's glass door. He turned and bounded over, so much like an overly-friendly puppy that I smiled in spite of myself. "Aren't you a little old to be leaving nose prints on the door?"

His eyes danced. "It's snowing, Sara! Barely, but I definitely saw a few flakes."

"I guess we need to go finish up, then." I glanced over at Monica. "Before it gets heavy."

Three hours later, our work finished, we stocked up on food, drinks, and other essentials at the general store and followed Monica's directions to the Dark Woods Lodge. "Wow," I said as I pulled into the parking lot. "I really wasn't expecting this."

"This is truly cool," Greg said a few minutes later as we lugged our bags over to the door of our cabin. "Look at the wraparound porch and the rockers."

"And the big pile of firewood on the porch."

"And the sign by the front door..." He looked at me and broke into a broad grin. "Wow. I feel like I should carry you in."

I would have told him to shut up, but I was too busy gawking at the large, brightly-painted sign next to the cabin's front door : "The Love Nest. Our Honeymoon Suite." My hand shook as I unlocked the door. "Oh, crap," I whispered, then looked over at Greg, who was still grinning. "One bed."

III. Back at the Cabin

I tried very hard to look distressed by our forced sleeping arrangements, but I couldn't, so I decided to get the fire going while Sara calmed down. She was trying to be matter-of-fact about the situation, but she was as nervous as a virgin who just discovered her blind date was actually a porn star. I couldn't blame her - after all, she did know I was interested in her, even if she was unaware of the extent of my feelings. She would have put that Denali in the wind if she'd known just how much I wished we were sharing a honeymoon suite for more traditional reasons. I hoped she realized I was enough of a gentleman not to push things, although from her behavior I wondered. I considered what I could say to ease her anxiety, and I finally settled on what I did best - humor. "You know," I said quietly as I moved a log into a better position, "Contrary to what you may have been told I really DON'T have cooties."

She shook her head, obviously embarassed. "I know you don't, Greg, it's just that this," she gesture at the bed, then at the cabin in general, "This is unexpected. It, um, has me a little off-balance."

I shrugged. "I could sleep on the floor." I would freeze to death and put my back out, I added silently, but theoretically I could do it.

"No, Greg, you couldn't. We have barely enough blankets if we share, and the floor is wood and brick. This cabin is old and drafty. Even if you slept in front of the fire you'd catch pneumonia from the cold floor."

I tried to keep my voice neutral to cover how much her reaction hurt. "I'm not going to force myself on you, Sara. You can relax. You're not in any danger here."

Her expression was serious as her eyes met mine. "I know, Greg. I never thought that I was. It's just that we've never really had any contact outside of the lab before, and now we're going to be sharing a bed. "

I nodded. "It's an unusual situation, I will give you that." I glanced toward the bathroom. "You want first dibs on the shower?"

"If you don't mind. I might try out that massive bathtub for a bit."

"Help yourself. The fire should be going by then."

She smiled slightly. "You seem to have a knack for that. Your family must have had a fireplace."

I laughed. "No. No, I learned it in scouting. I was an Eagle Scout, you know."

"Yeah, you told me. You are just full of surprises, aren't you?"

I grinned stupidly. "If you say so."

I found a chessboard and had it set up in front of the fire by the time she emerged in her sensible red flannel pajamas and fuzzy grey socks. "Could I interest you in a game?" I asked as she walked toward me.

"Yes, you could." She smirked. "If you don't mind losing."

I chuckled. "Such certainty. My Grandpa Olaf used to say that pride goeth before a fall."

"You must have done a lot of falling."

I shrugged. "Want black or white?"

"Black is already facing toward you, so I'll take white."

A little over a half hour later, Sara was looking at me with a combination of indignation and amazement. I had beaten her easily, something she obviously wasn't accustomed to. "I... you..." she gestured to the chessboard, then back to me again, "And I thought I was a good chess player."

"You are," I said evenly.

"You just totally annihilated me."

"Should I apologize?"

"No, it's just... You're better than Grissom!"

Yes, probably in a variety of pursuits, said my mind, but out loud I answered, "I WAS captain of our high school chess team the year we won the Western Regionals."

"Give me a rematch."

"Maybe after I take a shower."

She made a face and waved her hand under her nose. "Yeah, since you mentioned it you definitely could use one. Please, don't let me stop you from your pursuit of proper hygiene."

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I watched Greg disappear into the bathroom. I was seeing him in a new light after spending the last thirty hours with him, and I wasn't entirely comfortable with the feelings this new insight had triggered. I'd always thought he was cute in a dorky sort of way, though he'd always seemed a little too young and loud and pushy for my tastes. His sense of humor, however ribald, was infectious, and I'd always enjoyed his flirting way more than I'd let on. It had felt good to be wanted, to be someone's crush, and he was as sweet and safe and non-threatening as he was persistent. I'd felt some attraction to him from the start, but my attention had always been focused elsewhere - first on Grissom, then on Hank, then back on Grissom. All the while Greg's infatuation with me had never wavered. Now I knew that Grissom had started a long-distance affair with Monica Dixon during the period of time I most energetically pursued him, when he was occasionally behaving as if he might actually want me. He had walked right past me, gotten into his car and driven fifteen hours to be with her. He had done this regularly for years, always for just a night or two in her arms, but he hadn't been willing to spare me two hours outside of work. All of a sudden, I finally knew where I stood with Gil Grissom. The truth was right under my nose, had been for years, but I hadn't wanted to see it. The 'one day' I'd always hoped for wasn't ever going to happen because he just wasn't interested. I could no longer tell myself that he didn't have time, or that he simply couldn't peel his focus off work. On some level I'd known for quite a while. Now I needed to let go and get on with my life. My heart was bruised, my self-image still aching from my ridiculous farce of a relationship with Hank, but I would live and love again.

I looked toward the closed bathroom door. Greg had been sulky, snarky and territorial over my relationship with Hank. As presumptuous and irritating as his behavior had been I'd been flattered. When Hank and I split Greg had made making me smile his personal obsession. I had a very good idea that he was the "friend" Nick had been trying to set me up with. Now I was beginning to wonder if I'd been hasty in dismissing him as a romantic prospect. Though I'd rejected him at every turn I'd had his attention and interest for close to four years, and as much as I hated to admit it that was a personal record for me. He was funny, smarter than I'd imagined, and surprisingly easy to be around. I was more attracted than I cared to admit.

The object of my ruminations slunk out of the bathroom clad in a grey T-shirt, ugly plaid pajama pants, and a frown. "I forgot to pack gel," he said unhappily, then flopped down next to me. "Not that it matters, what with having no electricity for a hairdryer. This place doesn't even have outlets."

"You're an Eagle Scout, Greggo. Suck it up."

He sighed dramatically. "We should crash pretty soon. We're both exhausted, and it's late."

"Yeah, I guess you're right."

He glanced at the fire. "You go on if you want. I'll throw another log on, then join you."

I had been in bed for ten or fifteen minutes when I felt him crawl in next to me. "Sleep well, Sara," he said softly. I didn't answer, just pretended to be asleep.

dreamsequencedreamsequencedreamsequence

I lay frozen on a bed of ice in the center of a snowy plain. He stood before me, then pulled me upwards into his arms. "Warm yourself with me," he whispered, then lowered his lips to mine. We tumbled back onto the bed, but it was no longer made of ice. Somehow it was unexpectedly soft and warm and safe. We were naked, and he was hot and hard against me, and I wasn't cold any more. "Take what you need," he whispered, and so I did. I wrapped my hand around his hot cock and began to stroke...

"Sara!" I was awakened by Greg's strangled exclamation, and in a flash I realized I had my hand in his pajama pants, and that hand was wrapped around him in a very intimate way. A heat that was not embarassment swept through me, and I searched through the darkness for his reaction. "Please don't stop," he pleaded. I hesitated a moment, then hooked my fingers in the waistband of his pants and began slowly pulling them down.

endofdreamendofdreamendofdream

This absolutely HAD to be a dream, because Sara Sidle was seducing me, and I knew that was just not possible. I was incredulous - also so aroused that I was in danger of humiliating myself with a very messy early misfire. I pulled free, then rolled over to straddle her. "My turn," I said as I pulled her top off. "I've been wanting you for four years. Let's take our time, okay?" 

I kissed her as gently as I was able, and she met me with passion. I pulsed hotly against her cool belly, but I ignored my body's demands and slid downward to suckle at her breasts. She tangled her fingers in my hair, and when I moved my attentions even lower she arched into me. Oh, yes, this had to be a dream, because in real life I was never going to get to do this. I was definitely never going to get to hear her whimper and feel her buck helplessly against my face. My heart would never have the chance to skip a beat at the etherial breathy sounds she would make, and I would never hear her beg a few minutes later. "Please don't stop. Oh oh oh..."

And then she was shaking and twitching against me, and I was over and in her and I was shaking too, shaking because as I slowly pushed into her body I suddenly realized it wasn't a dream after all. My most treasured fantasy was really happening. I took her lips in a kiss made sloppy by passion and rocked gently into her. "More, Greg," she whispered harshly, and I gave her everything, all of me, riding her hard and deep. Over and over she bucked into me, her hands grabbing at my ass as she rose to meet me, then finally she was breaking under me, shattering me with her clutching release. In the gasping aftermath I clutched her and rolled onto my back, taking her with me. "We need to talk," she whispered ominously.

I swallowed hard. "Sleep now, talk later," I whispered, and she hesitated for an instant before relaxing into me. I was glad because I knew I really didn't want to hear what she was going to say.

Around dawn I awoke to a very cold, dark cabin, and with a sigh I pulled on my shirt and pants and slid out of bed to restart the fire. One look out the front window revealed that the snow was over halfway up the truck tires, and it was still coming down hard. The Denali wasn't going anywhere anytime soon, that was for sure. I grabbed a few logs from the porch and began my task. The real issue, I thought as I watched the fire spread from the chunks of lighter wood to the logs, was where WE were going. I had the feeling I was going to be returned to the JustFriends box as soon as Sara was awake enough to speak. This sucked for both of us, because whether she wanted to admit it or not I was much better for her than either Grissom or that jackass Hank. 

"Guess we're not going to get out of here today." I spun to see her standing close behind me, and I was surprised to see that she was smiling.

"I think that's a safe bet." I looked her over and smiled. "You seem happy this morning. I never figured you for a morning person."

She cocked her eyebrow. "Depends on the night before. Last night was really surprising."

I sighed. "It was at that." I pulled her close. "I'd like that to happen again. I want to grab onto this with both hands and see where it takes us."

Her expression grew serious, but her hand came up to cup my cheek. "I think I could go for that," she said quietly. "I can't promise you anything, though, Greg. We're two very different people. We might drive each other crazy."

I dropped a soft kiss on her lips. This was much more than I'd been expecting. "No promises, then. We just go with it."

Her arms slipped around me. "Come back to bed, Greg. It's too early to be up."

As we slipped under the soft quilts I pulled her into me and covered her lips with mine. I had enough hope for the future for both of us, but even if this thing between us didn't last at least I would always have Dark Woods. Life was ultimately just a sequential succession of todays, after all, and on this today I had Sara Sidle in my arms. That was enough. 


End file.
